Big Snow

More snow came later in the day, big snow, blinding snow that quickly covered the roads and their markings. It slowed everyone down to second gear and caused the roads and bridges to stand still.
Snow makes still.

In Pompey, at the first hint that the temperature might drop, the gritters would be out making the roads safe. You didn't want to be following one if you were a cyclist. But the real thing rarely arrived. Oh there were pictures of Southsea blanketed in snow and sometimes the seagulls would screech and wheel even more than usual and we'd have a flurry, but I never had the experience of waking up to a white world, not when I lived by the sea, too near the sea for snow.

Once, coming back from my friend's house, I cycled to the end of the road, could smell the fish and chips, see the liquid light of the chippie, when suddenly, without warning, I was bombarded with hail. Thunder rolled, hail pelted down. Then just as suddenly, the hail was replaced by snow, a blizzard. I had to get off my bike and within minutes the world disappeared and was replaced by a porcelain icing coated village. Doors opened and people spilled out to gaze at the miraculous snow. I lost my bearings, no signs, no landmarks, I wandered around looking for anything I could recognise, a pub, a Chinese takeaway.
As I got nearer to the sea, to my flat, there was less snow, nothing lay on the ground in my road and by the next morning when I cycled back to work, little remained anywhere.

I love the snow, I adore the snow, but I know how deadly its beauty is.
Overnight the temperature has dropped to well below freezing, the snow has frozen and the sky is cloudless. Dangerous snow and ice, treacherous even. But I feel blessed that we have snow, that someone important and spiritual that we wait for, sometimes all winter, has paid a visit.

When it goes, we will feel cleansed, physically, mentally.